


All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

by kisahawklin



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Drinking, Fear, Friendship, Morning After, Multi, No literal consent issues, Temporary Amneasia, but there is fear of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-13
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I sort of  combined two of the prompts, and twisted them around a bit. <i>Reid wakes up in bed after a night of drinking to find that he's not in his apartment and he isn't alone with no memory of how he got there</i> and <i>Garcia and Kevin discuss having a threesome and consider their options</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

**Author's Note:**

> A little dark to start; I think Reid waking up not in his own bed would freak him right out. There are no consent issues in the text itself, but there's definitely a fear of that in the beginning. Protect yourself if you need to.
> 
> Thanks to my regular beta. <3

Reid wakes with a start, several things pushing their way into his consciousness at once. The pounding headache gets first dibs, since it's hammering so loudly the other bits of information can hardly get a word in edgewise.

He closes his eyes, making the headache fade a little so he can concentrate on his other senses.

He's not in his own bed. This bed is huge, and the blankets are not as soft as his microfiber ones at home - something his skin is protesting violently. That leads to observations number two and three, which ratchet his already racing pulse into the heavy cardio training area, where it doesn't go unless Morgan forces him into some exercise that he can't weasel his way out of with some excuse or another.

Two. He's naked. No pajamas, no socks, not even his boxers. Nothing.

Three. He's tied to the bed. His wrists are tied together above his head. Tactically, it's a poor move on his captor's part. As is forgetting to tie his legs together. At least he knows he has an intellectual advantage over whoever brought him here.

He hears a noise from outside the room and his eyes snap open, adrenaline pushing the headache into the back seat for a moment while his concentration kicks in and he goes into profile mode.

He listens carefully and hears voices, one a male's tenor and the other a female's, high alto-ish. That's good, two captors, and one a woman. He can work with that. Sounds like they're in the kitchen; there's a noise that sounds like a blender or some other kitchen appliance, and he's almost positive he heard pans clanging together a moment ago.

A sweep around the room reveals next to nothing. A plain, spare bedroom with nothing on the walls, a dresser with a collection of toiletries for men and women, clothing strewn about the floor, much of it his own. Something about the brightly patterned shirt pings him, but he can't place it.

He closes his eyes again to stave off the headache and concentrate on retracing his steps from last night. They left the BAU en masse, even Hotch coming along for a round at the local bar. He remembers Rossi, Hotch and Prentiss leaving, and then a drinking game with Morgan that made him the worse for wear.

Things get fuzzy after that; Kevin came by to collect Garcia, but Morgan had left by that point. Hadn't he? How much did he drink last night, anyway? His head throbs as if to answer him.

He remembers stumbling out of the bar, waving goodbye to Kevin and Garcia, falling down and laughing so hard the bouncer asked him if he was all right.

Approaching footsteps interrupt his thoughts, and he kicks off the covers, wanting use of his legs more than needing his modesty. His muscles coil in anticipation as he watches the doorknob turn in what feels like slow motion.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Garcia's voice precedes her by a split second. She's wearing an eye-searing electric blue silk robe when she appears in the doorway.

Reid can feel every bit of tension leave his body and he relaxes back into the soft bed, snatches of memories coming back to him from last night. He's not surprised to see Kevin follow Garcia into the room, but he is surprised to see the tray with filled to bursting with pancakes and all the fixings, and Kevin's raised eyebrow at his exposed nakedness.

"Oh, god," Reid says, yanking at whatever's holding his arms up. "You guys scared the crap out of me."

Garcia comes over and pulls the covers over him, and Kevin sets the breakfast tray on top of his legs. "Oh, sweetie," she coos, and reaches up to pull on one end of the fastening. When his arms drop to the bed, he can see the electric blue sash tied around his wrists in such a way that if he had just looked up, he would have been able to untie himself.

He works his wrists out of the sash with a muttered, "This is embarrassing."

"Nah," Kevin says, climbing onto the bed beside him and spearing a forkful of pancakes. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Well, maybe how easy it is to get you falling-down drunk," Garcia adds, patting his arm. "Here, eat, it'll make you feel better."

She stabs a sausage and hands the fork to him. Once he starts to eat he realizes he's _starving_ , and the three of them make quick work of the huge pile of pancakes and sausage. There's a mango smoothie to wash things down, which he's not really sure about until Garcia stops him mid-lecture by shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

"Oh, that's pretty good," he says, picking up the glass and sucking half of it through the straw in one fell swoop.

"There's more where that came from," Kevin says, and jumps off the bed to go back into the kitchen.

Reid waits for him to be out of hearing range before turning to Garcia. "So, did we..." Reid starts, wanting to ask the obvious question before Kevin gets back. If he has to humiliate himself, he prefers to do it with someone he considers family. "...did we, you know..."

Garcia laughs, her big, beautiful smile lighting up her face. "You were literally too drunk to stand up, Reid. We took you home, put you in Kevin's spare room, and you told us to tie you up because you flail at night." The smile slips a little at that statement. "But we were here, watching over you."

"Thanks, Garcia," he says, swallowing away the tidal wave of relief and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Hey, stop macking on my girlfriend," Kevin says as he comes back in with the blender to fill up the smoothie. "Unless I get some too," he adds, raising an eyebrow. Reid turns to check in with Garcia, just to make sure this really is what he thinks it is, and her mischeivous grin is enough to convince him.

Reid grins, dipping a finger into the smoothie and smearing it down Kevin's cheek. "I think that can be arranged."  


 


End file.
